Mas Mourning Becoming Wreaths

Kevin Adonis Browne on Mas Mourning--Becoming Wreaths: This concept—which will unfold into a band—falls squarely within the notion of Carnival as an opportunity for public expression. Not just mourning, obviously, but expression that spans the spectrum of public feeling, and (more importantly) of intensely private feeling that may be publicly aired. Such public airings are typically inconvenient, often disconcerting, and almost always exactly what we need. They are intended to do things with us, for us—but especially to us. And if we're paying attention, we feel it. Call it spirit, if you like, but it moves us, inspires us to act. So we see, in plain terms, how the spirit of Mas is contained in a concept of a band, then we see (or hope to see) how that concept will burst into the public for the rest of us to feel. And why is this important right now? Because, lately, everyday life has eclipsed public rituals of mourning in the sense that everyday life in this pandemic moment is a ritual of mourning. We're mired in death news daily as a matter of public policy, forced in a way to receive death as a matter of protocol. Wreaths are more than a superficial reminder of this—that we live and will die, losing but may yet win, struggling but may still get through. They show, as an undercurrent of all those preoccupations, that what connects us is not merely what the wreath becomes, but the desire to become wreaths in the first place. By pointing us toward "becoming," Young seems to yearn (and we, with him) for that aspect of ourselves that precedes even the language to describe what we have felt and have needed to feel. By going back to "becoming," Young brings us along, one chip-step at a time. And, as our momentum grows and turns to a familiar pace, he propels us—conceptually, at first, then in practice—into a future that will welcome and celebrate us, as we so desperately hope to celebrate it. A Jouvay Mourning indeed.